Fred's Worst Day
by ElfFlame
Summary: George isn't speaking to Fred. How will he fix it?


K, so it wasn't precisely a bet, but I refused to believe that Return of the King would win Best Picture, so I promised that if it did, I would write Foodie the fic of her choice of two characters, and two Rules.  So, I was wrong.  Mea Culpa.  (I still think it's rigged, which means it means nothing.)  So, anyway, she chose Fred and Peeves, and NO SLASH :(, and there had to be a jar of marmalade.  So here's what I came up with.  Hope you like.  It was written in about a half-hour.  This is a one-shot, folks.  I never use either of these characters much.  I think Fred's shown up in two of my fics, and Peeves never, so don't count on me ever following up.

Still aren't mine.  Though I'd love to borrow George for a day or two. :D  Foodie can borrow Peeves and Fred all she wants.  Not that they're mine to loan. ;)

**Fred's Worst Day**

**By Elfflame**

It was a miserable day.  George wasn't speaking to Fred.  He had decided to do so because Fred had seen fit to ask out Celia Winters only hours after George had admitted to him that he might—_might_—have a thing for her.  This meant that Fred woke later than everyone else, and was late getting down to the Great Hall.  So, when Fred arrived at the Gryffindor table for breakfast, the only jar of marmalade left had so little in it that Fred only managed to have one slice of toast.

            In Potions, George sat between Lee and Andrew Martins, and ignored anything Fred spoke.  In History of Magic, Fred had fallen asleep, and when Lee had prodded him awake, there were ink marks all over his face.  At lunch, Fred was approached by Angelina, who had heard about his date with Celia, and had slapped him before he could even say hi.

            Fred decided to skive off the rest of the day.  Obviously nothing would make it better, so he might as well make of it what he could and get _some _relaxation.  However, halfway to Gryffindor tower, he had the unfortunate luck to run into Peeves.

"Ah, Peeves.  I don't suppose you could make this day worse, now, could you?"

Peeves cackled.  "And what be ickle Freddie's troubles?"

"If only you knew.  Please, Peeves, I've had troubles enough today.  Let me pass and I promise you I'll search you out next time I'm ready to play a prank."

"But what if Peevesie wants a pranking now, ickle Freddie?"  Peeves flipped over, and looked at Fred upside-down.

Fred sighed.  "Perhaps I could come up with some fine trick, but it would take a thought or two, Peeves."

"Thoughts are fun are thoughts to think…And if I give you time to think…what should I get in return, ickle Freddie?"

And that was when he knew just how to put everything right again.  His eyes glinted as he looked up at the poltergeist.  "Do you think you could lure George to the pitch at eight tonight, Peeves?"

"Ist a trick?" Peeves asked gleefully.

Fred grinned.  "Do I do anything else, dear ghost?"

Peeves grinned wickedly, and spun about until he was right-side up once more.  "It shall be done, dear sir!" he saluted, then sped off down the hall.

After a good nap, Fred put the second phase into action.  He'd promised to meet Celia, not for a date, but so he could discuss with her George's intentions.  George was always willing to go along with anything Fred came up with, but rarely did he make a move on his own.  And if Fred ever wanted to do more than snog with Angelina, he knew he had to do something about it.  Of course, now he had to deal with two somethings, thanks to his plan, but Angelina could be dealt with easily enough, once his true plan came to light.

When Lee showed up in the dorm, Fred quickly explained the meeting he was trying to arrange between George and Celia, and Lee was more than willing to help.  He promised he'd send him off shortly after Fred left the common room, but would give Fred enough time to explain everything to Ceila.

As he exited the portrait hole at seven thirty, he glanced around, and was amused to see Peeves nearby, throwing rotten fruit at one of the suits of armor.  Upon seeing Fred, he saluted once more, and bowed.  Fred winked, then made his way down the hall.  Celia was in Ravenclaw, so he'd deemed the pitch the best place to meet her.  Besides which, it was a beautiful spring night, and Fred was sure it would only take a small push once George understood what his brother was up to.

He arrived at the pitch in good time, but Celia hadn't arrived yet.  Ah, well, he was early.  He could wait.  He sat in one of the stands and stretched his feet out in front of him.  He woke an hour later with a stiff neck, and no Ceila or George anywhere in sight.  Damn that poltergeist, he thought to himself.  He dragged himself up, and stumbled back to the castle, barely missing Snape as he slunk through the halls towards Gryffindor tower.

He arrived at the portrait hole to discover the painting empty.  The perfect end to a perfect day.  He turned around, hoping to find a room to hide out in for a bit until he could get in to go to bed when he heard a nearby whisper.  Was that…George?  He stormed over to the alcove, and was about to launch into a harangue at his twin when he noticed the dark-haired girl snuggled in George's lap.  Celia.  They were kissing, and had not yet noticed Fred's presence.  

He quickly snuck away.  Well, sometimes even George got things right, he thought to himself as he smiled.


End file.
